Alone
by TheOwlMoth
Summary: When Soren and Gylfie try to escape the Pure Ones, Gylfie is captured, leaving Soren to fulfill his quest of meeting the Guardians alone.


**If you pay attention to the movie, you'd know Gylfie isn't so useless after all. Soren would have been moon blinked if it weren't for her, and none of the rest of the story would have happened. I wanted to write about what would happen if these two were torn apart in the movie, how it would affect both of them. Anyway, sit back, relax, and enjoy these poor owlets get tortured by Pure Ones. **

It seemed like an overall placid day in St. Aegolius Academy for Orphaned Owls. Owlets had been captured successfully and coerced into submission through moon blinking, the fleck pots were being filled in the Pelletorium, and training for the adolescent Tyto owls was exceptionally competitive, as the Pure Ones expected.

Well, almost all the owlets had been moon blinked. . . . except for two rebellious owlets, Soren and Gylfie.

Through the silence of the Pure One stronghold, a crusty old Boreal owl named Grimble led the owlets, slinking past infernal red-eyed Tyto guards whose faces were concealed in rusted old helmets. Before Grimble had discovered the non-moon blinked owls, they'd already gotten into some trouble already—first, when they were communicating in their passage with their captors, and then with Alblah General Nyra, also the Queen of the Pure Ones, when Gylfie protested against the heinous statement that the kidnapped owlets were involved in the Pure One family.

Of course, any protests of the voiceless owlets were instantly subdued by Jatt, Jutt, or the other owls of the Aegolius genus in St. Aggie's, especially owls who were not Tytos. All Tyto owlets who had been captured were not taken to the Glaucidium (besides Soren, since he had participated in Gylfie's protest against Nyra) and instead were trained to become soldiers.

Grimble was suspicious of Soren and Gylfie from the start. He almost caught them in the Glaucidium talking rather than falling asleep like they were instructed to, and when it came time for the owlets to go to the Pelletorium, Gylfie's overexaggerated moon blinked acting grabbed Grimble's attention. In the Pelletorium, Soren and Gylfie's conversations had angered the old owl. The Pure Ones hated questions, or anything that implied an owlet questioned their authority.

So, here they were, on their way to who knows where for an unjust punishment.

As the three passed a watchful guard, Soren finally had the courage to ask, "What do you plan on doing with us?"

"Quiet," Grimble ordered discreetly, shoving him forward. The Tyto guard snarled softly, blinking at them, and shifted his head in the opposite direction. An odd eeriness rang through the stronghold. Both owlets expressed fear; Soren kept a look of concern, while Gylfie chittered and vibrated, pupils shrunken like black marbles.

Then, there it was. The library—open books and pages dispersed across the stone floor, wax candles alight, giving the chamber a warm, homely glow, extremely tapered battle claws lying in the corners.

"What is this place?" Gylfie murmured, eyes wandering the unfamiliar setting.

"Get inside. Stop asking questions," growled Grimble, urging the others to squirm under a wooden rod barricading a chamber. Gylfie hopped onto a small platform with haste and looked to her right, then released a petrified gasp. She was just inches away from a pile of decayed bird bones in the corner.

"You know," she started, "the Pure Ones won't be too happy if you don't let us get back to the Pelletorium." Gylfie wasn't actually worried about the Pure Ones' satisfaction; she'd only been scarred by the sight of the bird corpse.

"No. And they won't be too happy when they figure out what I'm gonna do to you, either," Grimble threatened, expanding his red stained wings. Gylfie cowered next to Soren, lifting one leg and shielding her tiny body with her wing.

"I'm gonna teach you to fly."

Soren's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Fly?"

Grimble was eyeing Gylfie. "You can breathe now."

The smaller owl unfroze, letting out a shaky, yet relieved sigh. Grimble chuckled, and sighed solemnly. "Ye, it's been gettin' worse here. I told myself if any came who were smart and brave enough to resist, I'd help 'em. Guess you two will have to do."

Soren frowned. "But aren't you a . . ."

"Pure One?" There was a burning in the old owl's amber eyes, like golden flames of vile abhorrence. "No. I hate 'em. Almost as much as I hate what they've turned me into." He observed his own weary body and greasy gray and red complexion. "My feathers weren't always stained with these colors. . . ." Grimble seemed to be recalling something traumatic, a scar where it hurt the most. "When the Pure Ones invaded our kingdom, I fought back. Now, they thought they could use that, so . . . they took my family. They promised me if I followed orders, no harm would come to them. And I've been doing their dirty work ever since."

The owlets could clearly tell Grimble was indeed a very wise owl. He stared back at them kindly, and deftly flapped his way up to a stone protrusion. "Now, have you flown at all before?"

"Well, I have been branching," Soren mentioned.

Gylfie had been silent about any exposing details, until she finally cheeped, "I . . . I fell out of the nest trying to fly before I was prepared."

"That's a mistake most young owls make before they are captured," sighed Grimble, recollecting what had happened between himself and the elf owl. "Almost makes me wanna fly off and break from the Pure Ones. My only restraint is the hope that I free my family." He had his eyes glued to the ground, before he snapped back to reality. "Many apologies. Now, be aware that you two do not have the luxury of gliding down from a nest anymore. You need to work on your power skills, starting with what you already know. Show me what you can do." Grimble gave an encouraging wave of his wing. "Come on."

Soren and Gylfie hesitated, then beat their wings noisily to lift themselves a few feet off the ground in a clumsy manner.

"Hey, good, good!" Grimble praised, his face lighting up. "Now, try and feel every muscle, every feather in each stroke. And push!"

Gylfie had been ascending too far, trying too hard to stay aloft, and lost balance, plopping onto Soren's head and landing sprawled on the ground. Soren alighted beside her, chortling like playful children.

"Alright, you two, that's enough," said Grimble. "Come on, back to practice."

The owlets ceased their laughter, Gylfie dropping her legs on either side of her tail.

For a while, Grimble gave them thorough instruction on how to fly properly, including going as far as to mention some owl anatomy that instantly confused them. He explained that flight is only easy for a bird because their bones are light and hollow, and if they were not, flight would be nearly impossible. Most of the actual lessons exhausted Gylfie, while Soren managed to stay in the air without much struggle. Soren frequently had to nudge Gylfie before she fell to the ground mid flight.

"No, more flap, deeper flap," instructed Grimble, leading the owlets through the air. "The still air has no shape to use. You gotta compensate on your downstroke." The owlets alighted next to a pile of books on the library floor, watching their teacher fly adeptly.

"Make your wingtips almost meet, if you can, without stalling." He descended over them, further demonstrating his words.

"I can't curl my feathers enough, Grimble. My wings are too short," Gylfie complained, defeatedly dropping her wings to her sides.

"Well, they always said Lyze of Kiel's wings were short." Grimble landed in front of them, hunching. "But that didn't stop him. And you're gonna need to fly a long way to get to the Guardians."

Soren felt something click in his gizzard. Grimble was the only owl in St. Aegolius who'd even spoken of the Guardians, and no younger owls had mentioned the legends either. He knew Grimble was much different. . . . He was setting them up for a greater fate, a greater purpose.

"The Guardians of Ga'Hoole?" Soren asked dumbly.

"Ye," said Grimble.

"But how will we . . . know where to go?"

"Well, you have to get to the Sea of Hoolemere, where the Tree is shrouded in ancient mists—"

"Which keep it hidden from all but the strong of purpose and the true of heart."

"Hey. Exactly," Grimble smiled. "I'd come with you. But I still hold out the hope of . . . freeing my family."

"Really?"

The owls sharply jerked their heads to the front of the library, where Nyra, the tall, feminine Tyto emerged with her two taciturn Pure One minions, and—to Soren's surprise and slight relief—Kludd. Nyra's eyes were tipped with a glare, like she had swallowed a lemon and was furious about it.

"Go!" Grimble hissed, turning to the owlets.

Soren only stared at Kludd, frightened and confused. "Kludd, come with us!" he pleaded.

Kludd scowled and shook his head behind Nyra.

"Go, now!"

"Get them!" Nyra ordered, a Pure One launching himself forward. The owlets had no choice but to rush backward, Soren still watching his brother, who had no evidence of remorse on his scarred face. The guard engaged in brief claw combat with Grimble, until the latter leapt upward and sent him right into a tousled metal objects against the wall.

"Kludd!" Soren still shouted back, with no reply.

A second guard charged at Grimble, locking tapored claws, but he too failed, as Grimble birled him backward like a windmill and still stood quite unharmed.

"Your little owlets won't get away," threatened Nyra, opening her expansive wings.

Soren and Gylfie hurried to the far back of the library, a rocky spur tipped towards the sleepy sky, broad, anemic precipices and jutting rocks directly below them. The owlets immediately halted, kicking small pebbles off the edge and flapping to induce friction.

After staring each other down for a moment, prepared to fly, Nyra and Grimble both hurled themselves into the air, undertaking a battle with bare claws only, repulsively shrill screeches resounding off the walls.

"Soren, what do we do!" Gylfie panicked, unable to decide where to look.

Grimble managed to incapacitate Nyra for a split second by casting his talons at her, but she recovered and dived for his gizzard. Somehow, he'd managed to knock her to the floor with the coverts of his wing, and before she could return to battle, Grimble dropped to his feet on her gizzard. His claws just yearned to pierce her flesh, rip her gizzard out so he could free his family. . . .

"Soren, we have to go!" Gylfie urged.

"Wait, come on Kludd! Now's our chance!" Soren wouldn't give up on Kludd, despite it being obvious that he would not return equal loyalty.

"Well, what are you waiting for, son? This is your chance to go home," Grimble said, enforcing his weight on Nyra.

But Kludd only watched the others for a second and looked back to Nyra. She'd praised him, encouraged him, appreciated him. . . . and even if she were evil, which he did not consider her to be, he would not go back to a place where his words were always pushed aside, his outlook on reality always rejected and buried under his siblings' irrational idolizing of the Guardians. When he stared at Nyra, she helplessly screeched. He felt needed. Nyra needed him right there and then, unlike anyone else.

Kludd made up his mind.

"I am . . . I am home," he muttered. He expanded his wing feathers in a demonic wail, vibrating the library and stunning Grimble. Nyra saw her chance to strike his chest, relieving her of his weight, and propel him to the floor with her wing to injure him."

"Would you wound your Queen, Grimble?" she challenged.

"You're not my Queen!" Grimble retaliated, standing with his wing half bent. He was about to begin another battle, only to send a lit lantern to the floor, setting the library aflame. Nyra rose above the sanguine flames, like an enraged screeching demon with her eyes crimson and hungry to shed blood on Grimble.

"We need to jump now, Soren!"

But Nyra charged at the owlets instead with great force, until Grimble enveloped her in his wings to prevent her laying her claws on them. They went stumbling towards the trapped owlets, leaving them no choice. . . .

"Now!"

Both of them leaned forward and dropped from the ledge, flailing their wings around in a panic. The two combatting owls eventually rolled over the edge as well, screaming and never giving up their goals to anguish the other.

"Come on, Gylfie! Flap! Flap your wings!" Soren yelled, watching Gylfie plummeted clumsily as she aggressively beat her wings. She was falling faster than he was—if he didn't do something, she'd fall to her death. Two distant Pure One guards perched atop jagged outcrops nearby took notice of the plunging battle, and flew to assist the Queen.

Just before Gylfie reached the precipice floor, Soren skidded underneath her, scraping his back and claws against the stone to uplift the elf owl. She flew steadily, able to keep up behind him. They both felt a sense of triumph with the burning exhaustion in their chests, as they passed torches and rocks in the dark canyons.

The guards made it to battle, claws wielded to attack Grimble—

"No! Follow the owle—" A guard mistakenly smacked her— "Ugh! Follow the owlets! Go, you fools!" Nyra screamed in the guards' faces, but they dumbly remained for a moment before zooming off to chase the escapees.

"Go! Go tell the Guardians!" Grimble hollered with what little time he had knew these were his last moments. He'd failed his family. . . . He vowed to free them, and he would have carried through with his hopes and promises. But now, they would be imprisoned forever and die in the Pure Ones' claws. As he fell, too damaged to fight, he sighed solemnly. Nyra unleashed one last grotesque harpy shriek, before thrashing her claws at Grimble to send him falling into the dry, tenebrous ravines below.

The Queen decided to go after the owlets herself, a brief crimson glint in her icy eyes. She took after the guards, flying at high speeds through the gorges of the Beaks like jets. Their aggressive screeches rang through the canyons, alerting Soren and Gylfie. They wove between rocks, swooped underneath stone ledges, and beat their wings as fast as they could. But the Pure Ones' flight patterns were much smoother, more skilled, not needing to flap so quickly in order to propel themselves.

Soren led Gylfie into a tight ravine, where he'd seen a glimmer of hope: rays of light gleaming through an opening in the stones. Perhaps they could escape! The only problem was that they were running out of time—the leading guard would swipe them if they didn't hurry. He was only five feet behind them . . . four feet . . . three feet . . . two feet . . .

"Look! There! I see a way!" Soren panted, continuing his choppy flight.

"Where?" Gylfie just slowed down for half a second, providing the leading guard with enough time to lurch his talons forward and scrape her leg with his metal claws. "AGH!"

"Gylfie! Come on, follow me!" The owlets sped up their flight just enough to get the Pure Ones off their tails, swerving around a craggy corner of the ravine. There it was, the taut opening that would lead them to freedom, to Soren's dream of being with the Guardians, if they could just make it fast enough.

Soren shut his eyes tight, the guards churring ominously. He left it up to his gizzard to guide him to freedom. Both Gylfie and his dream depended on him.

He tucked his wings in, allowing easier access to squeezing through the hole. . . . He dived through . . .

"Soren!"

Through the gap, Gylfie's head poked through—and so did battle claws. The leading Pure One had his talons latched to Gylfie's leg, like metal shards squeezing a toothpick. She shrieked in affliction, flapping her wings hard against the gap, but the guard's grip was stronger than she could have imagined.

"Get the other!" Nyra roared to the other guard, glaring towards the hole Soren had flown through.

"Gylfie! Flap harder!"

The Pure One yanked Gylfie back into the ravine, taking full control of her in his other claw. "HELP!"

Her cries for help echoed in Soren's head. He tried to squeeze back through the gap, but he could only get out, not back in. A guard approached the gap and thrust his claws through, waving them around like a snake peering out of a burrow. He then tried shoving his head through, but he simply wouldn't fit. Nyra grunted and settled for just Gylfie, as they glided back through the ravine, away from Soren.

"Soren! Go! Find the Guardians!" Gylfie screamed, as the Pure Ones flew her out of sight.

He stared through the gap in horror, watching them all disappear. His only friend . . . gone. The only owl who could have seen him achieve his dream: captured, torn away from him by the evil side of the legend. Soren felt some piercing sensation in his eyes, then something warm, liquid and salty. First, his own brother wouldn't come home with him, then his friend is snatched from him.

Now he had to go find the Guardians all on his own. He clasped his talons and disappeared into the mist of morning.

**I have a lot planned for this story. Not sure how many chapters there will be, but we shall soon see. **


End file.
